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Mu Qing knew exactly what he was doing. He was aware that talking back and refusing to stay in line was contributing to the steadily deepening crease between Feng Xin’s eyebrows. But he’d never been one for obeying the rules. At least, not when it came to Feng Xin. Not when he knew what might result from his incessant behavior.
“Behave,” Feng Xin said under his breath. He’d placed a hand around Mu Qing’s waist, grip tightening slightly. A warning. His lips hovered next to his ear, warm breath sending a shiver through him. “Don’t you want to be good for me?”
“What if I don’t feel like it today?” Mu Qing said. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Feng Xin just sighed, pulling his head away to turn his attention back to their circle of friends. They were currently at a table outside of a local cafe; cups of coffee and boba in front of each of them. Shi Qingxuan was excitedly recounting some story about her experience at a recent art festival. Beside her, He Xuan sat with his head propped in his hand looking rather bored. Still, his other hand was laced within hers, even as she shook it about. Xie Lian nodded politely, offering little comments between Shi Qingxuan’s sentences. Hua Cheng sat next to him, arms folded and head tilted. He seemed to be listening, but didn’t engage much.
Mu Qing wasn’t really trying to rile up Feng Xin at first. He’d just said a few things that Feng Xin ended up grappling onto, leading to the two bickering a bit between conversations. When he noticed the way it affected him, he couldn’t help himself. Mu Qing’s words developed a teasing lilt, obviously directed at the man beside him. Feng Xin, predictably, seemed to be losing his patience by the minute. The hand on Mu Qing’s waist tightened more, fingers digging in a bit. It was enough to draw a small gasp from Mu Qing’s lips, unnoticeable to those who weren’t seated directly beside him. There was a lull in conversation, and Feng Xin leaned in to whisper to Mu Qing again.
“Quit it, A-Qing.”
Mu Qing kept his eyes on Shi Qingxuan’s fluttering gestures as he mumbled a response back.
“Or what?”
“You’ll see when we get home if you don’t stop.”
“Works for me.”
Because that was exactly the reaction Mu Qing wanted. He wanted Feng Xin to do something about his behavior. It forced a scoff from Feng Xin’s lips.
“Brat,” he muttered.
They went back to talking with everyone else. But Mu Qing noticed the way Hua Cheng’s gaze kept flitting over toward him and Feng Xin. He looked between them, a sly grin making its way onto his face. Mu Qing averted his eyes. Smug bastard. Acting as if he knew something.
When they were separating for the afternoon and saying their goodbyes, Mu Qing took note of the way Feng Xin fiddled with the brown leather straps of his wristwatch. It had a classic design; Roman numerals spanning its circular face and rimmed in gold metal. The thin, long hand ticked forward with each passing second. And with each idle adjustment to the device, Mu Qing’s face and chest burned a bit hotter.
Feng Xin didn’t miss the subtle shift in Mu Qing’s expression as he stared down at his fingers on the watch. Nobody else seemed to catch the way Feng Xin’s eyes darkened slightly upon noticing. It was gone within a moment though as Feng Xin turned to offer a bright smile to Xie Lian, wrapping his smaller frame in a hug. Mu Qing, however, felt the sudden dryness in his throat. He sipped at his coffee, trying to combat it.
The drive back to their apartment wasn’t devoid of small quips from Mu Qing. He teased Feng Xin from the front passenger seat. Nothing he commented on truly mattered. It was purely to poke and prod at Feng Xin’s composed facade. He wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, surely.
‘When we get home,’ he’d said.
Feng Xin was looking straight ahead at the road. He had one grip at the top of the steering wheel, his other hand busy with his wristwatch. His thumb stroked over it idly, as if he was hardly giving any thought to the way he touched it. But Mu Qing’s eyes were glued to the sight, watching the way he squeezed the sides of the straps. How he swiped his thumb over its glass face. He squirmed in his seat, feeling blood rushing to the lower half of his body.
The car pulled up into an open space. Feng Xin put it in park and turned off the ignition, getting out of the car without much fanfare. He gave off the air of a man who had somewhere to be. Mu Qing let out an amused huff before getting out himself to follow Feng Xin. They entered their apartment in silence, putting their things down and removing their shoes by the door. Mu Qing went to the bathroom without a word.
When he returned to the living room, Feng Xin was seated in the middle of the couch. His legs were spread comfortably. He was fiddling once again with the watch on his left wrist. Mu Qing stood at the entrance to the hallway with bated breath. Then Feng Xin was unbuckling and removing the wristwatch entirely, leaning over to place it down on the glass surface of the side table. Like a Pavlov reaction, Mu Qing felt heat creeping downward, his cock already beginning to harden. He swallowed with a bit of difficulty, watching and waiting.
They had established this arrangement within the past half-year. Their relationship spanned several years, so this was only a recent development. But it was one that Mu Qing found himself quickly adjusting to. Of course, it took time, patience, and a lot of communication. It was necessary, after all. The type of arrangement they’d agreed upon didn’t have room for misunderstandings. Everything had to be clear and set out in the open.
When Feng Xin removed his wristwatch, that meant they were starting a scene.
Feng Xin didn’t move a muscle. He merely observed Mu Qing with a calm expression on his face.
“Your color?”
Mu Qing looked back at him, equally as still. “Green.”
Feng Xin nodded as if that was a satisfactory answer. Then he slowly leaned back against the couch, bringing his hands up to settle behind his head. Mu Qing recognized the signal, and his fingers twitched. He moved them down to the hem of his shirt and peeled it up and over his head, dropping it onto the floor. Feng Xin’s eyes roamed over his newly exposed torso. He hummed contentedly. One of his hands came around, and he placed his thumb against his own lips. He parted them slightly and slipped his thumb inside, gently biting down on the pad of it.
Mu Qing’s legs were moving before he could even consider the idea of it. He approached Feng Xin, coming to a stop in front of him. His hands found purchase on Feng Xin’s shoulders, and he straddled his lap. Feng Xin looked up at him, hands curling around his thighs bracketing him. They slid higher to settle on his bare waist. Mu Qing shivered at his touch.
“You’ve spent the afternoon frustrating me. Care to explain yourself?” Feng Xin said.
“Surely, you don’t think I was intentionally trying to annoy you,” Mu Qing said, sarcasm rolling off his tongue in a wave. He rolled his eyes for good measure. “Don’t be so full of yourself.”
“Oh. So, this is how you’re going to be then. My A-Qing doesn’t want to be a good kitten for me today?”
Mu Qing clenched his jaw, nearly giving in right then and there. He couldn’t help the feeling with the way Feng Xin was staring up at him, gaze unwavering and filled with something molten.
“Why should I?” he bit out instead. “Who says I want to be good for you?”
It was an outright lie. Mu Qing very much craved to be good for Feng Xin. But he wanted to fight a bit more. The constant push and pull was part of the fun, after all. Feng Xin’s nails dug into his waist, and it forced a breathy gasp from Mu Qing’s lips.
“I guess you’ll need a bit of convincing.”
Feng Xin leaned forward to brush his lips along his jaw. They traveled up along his neck, and a tongue flicked out to lick along the shell of his ear. He exhaled into his ear until Mu Qing’s body was shuddering on top of him.
“Down.”
The word was uttered like a command. And despite all his roundabout ways of pretending he didn’t care for the situation, Mu Qing was immediately sliding off his lap and onto his knees between Feng Xin’s parted legs. He swiped his tongue over his lips unconsciously. Feng Xin worked on unbuttoning his pants before sliding them off along with his underwear. He discarded his clothes to the side, looking back at Mu Qing, whose gaze was transfixed on the flushed erection in front of him. He felt his own cock twitch at the sight. Fuck, he was already so hard, and he hadn’t even been touched yet.
“Go on, baby. Get to work,” Feng Xin said.
“What if I don’t want to?” Mu Qing said, turning his face to the side and sticking his nose up.
Feng Xin sighed. Mu Qing noticed one of his hands approaching him out of the corner of his eye. It combed through his hair, latching onto the base of his high ponytail before pulling hard. It tore a gasp from Mu Qing. When another tug forced him to face forward, the subsequent sound choked off into a moan.
“Behave. And you might get what you want. That is, assuming you want something.”
Mu Qing definitely wanted something. He wanted Feng Xin’s body hovering over his own, muscles flexing as he held him in place and fucked into him. His body trembled at the thought, and his mouth salivated when his eyes landed on the hard cock in front of him.
“Oh. I can see you want something,” Feng Xin said. “Tell me what you want.”
“Make me.”
This was another one of their subtle signals. Mu Qing could fight back all he wanted, could argue endlessly with the man in front of him. He often tossed out cheeky remarks and prodded at his composure, pushing him closer to his breaking point. But with those two words, Mu Qing was essentially handing over control. And Feng Xin gladly took it, hand winding tightly around his strands to pull his head toward his cock.
Mu Qing’s lips met the shaft, and he automatically parted them to graze along the side of it. The hand in his hair pulled him down to the base. His tongue prodded at his balls before he was lifted higher, dragging up along the shaft. He let out a hum, knowing the vibration would affect him. Feng Xin exhaled harshly. He tugged his mouth closer to the tip, watching him all the while. Mu Qing wrapped his lips around it, and then he was pushed down a few inches. It was enough to fill his mouth, leaving no room for him to speak.
Breathing through his nose, he allowed his head to be lifted and dropped. He braced his hands on Feng Xin’s knees, clutching tightly as his head was pushed even further down. Feng Xin held him there for a few seconds, cock buried halfway down his throat. Mu Qing started choking at the thick intrusion, and he slapped his palm onto Feng Xin’s knee a few times. He was immediately pulled off his cock, coughing and gagging. A string of saliva connected from his lips to the tip of his cock, dripping down to the floor.
When he regained control of his breath, he nodded. Feng Xin’s hand never left his hair, and now it only tightened before tugging him forward again. Mu Qing tried to focus on relaxing his throat to take his cock deeper. He only managed to swallow once around his length before coughing and needing to be pulled off again though. Not letting it deter him, he kept signaling to continue, waving off Feng Xin’s concerned questions.
Feng Xin’s sighs and moans spurred him on. Mu Qing’s pants felt tighter with each bob of his head. Another slide of his cock down the back of his throat caused him to smack weakly at Feng Xin’s thigh. Feng Xin pulled him off again, and he gasped for breath.
Mu Qing felt his eyes glazing over. His brain was a bit fuzzier, falling just a bit deeper into that hazy space he often experienced during sessions like these. The pull on his concentration felt especially strong today. The fight from before had fully left him. He felt like he was floating, a warm sensation coursing pleasantly through his body.
“A-Qing. Baby. Kitten.”
Mu Qing blinked blearily up at Feng Xin when he heard the words softly spoken. He hummed to indicate he was listening.
“How are you feeling? What’s your color?”
It took a moment for the words to sink in enough that he understood what was being asked of him.
“Good. Green,” Mu Qing said simply.
He became a lot less verbal in this state. Drifting in the calm ripples of subspace, he was more inclined to communicate through small touches and hums. If he had to convey anything verbally, he tended to speak in short statements that weren’t overly complicated.
Feng Xin smiled, and then he was pulling him back toward his cock. His movements were a lot gentler this time as he bobbed his head along his shaft. He didn’t push him far enough down to choke him. It was something Mu Qing noticed during their sessions; Feng Xin would hold back and proceed more slowly when he noticed Mu Qing entering subspace. It equally endeared and frustrated Mu Qing, who couldn’t do much to convey his desire to be treated more roughly. He could try, at least.
“Such a good boy. You’re taking me so well,” Feng Xin said.
He groaned when Mu Qing managed to curl his tongue along the underside, pressing the tip into it. Feng Xin’s hips rutted upward, hand holding Mu Qing’s head in place. His cock slid over his tongue, in and out of his slack mouth. The tip of his cock grazed the back of his throat with every thrust, and Mu Qing let out soft moans with each one. He felt so hard in his pants, yet there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. The only thing he could manage to focus on was the sensation of the hot and heavy cock in his mouth, spreading his lips wide open as it pushed its way inside.
“Mmph,” Mu Qing grunted.
He wanted to say something. To beg Feng Xin to touch him. To fuck him. He dug his nails into Feng Xin’s thighs. Feng Xin’s hips slowed down, and he pulled Mu Qing off his swollen cock.
“Yes, baby? Do you need something?” Feng Xin said a bit breathlessly.
“Bed. Now. Please.”
“You want me to take you to bed?”
Mu Qing nodded. “Touch me. Need it.”
Feng Xin released his hold on his hair and pulled him up to sit on the couch. It was a good idea, as he realized his legs felt like jelly and would likely give out if he even attempted to walk on them. Feng Xin curled his hands around Mu Qing’s thighs and lifted him. He started carrying him down the hallway. Mu Qing wrapped his legs loosely around his back, moaning as his cock pressed into Feng Xin’s stomach.
“Oh, baby. You’re so hard,” Feng Xin said. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you. I’ll have to take care of that, won’t I?”
“You better.”
Feng Xin laughed. They entered the bedroom, and Feng Xin placed him down on the bed. Mu Qing didn’t want to let go, however, and locked his arms and legs tighter around him.
“I have to get some things for us, A-Qing. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
“Really? Do you need to?”
“Well, I do if you want me to fuck you. Is that what you want, A-Qing?”
Mu Qing considered his words, turning them over in his mind. Feng Xin fucking him was one of the only thoughts he’d been able to focus on since they started their session. He nodded.
“Want it,” Mu Qing mumbled. He released his hold from around Feng Xin, allowing him to stand up straight.
“Good boy.”
He didn’t seem to leave the room for all that long, but Mu Qing couldn’t really tell how much time passed in his floaty state. His body was sprawled comfortably on the bed; he felt almost weightless. The bed shifted, and he turned his head to see Feng Xin sitting next to him placing a few objects down. He was now fully naked, and Mu Qing couldn’t help the way he shamelessly dragged his gaze over his tanned and toned muscles. Feng Xin looked over at Mu Qing, noticing his eyes already on him.
“Do you want my fingers now? Or do you want me to kiss you a little longer?” Feng Xin said.
He gave him a choice. Mu Qing thought both options sounded pleasant. As much as he would love to kiss him more, his aching cock practically demanded his attention. He tried to indicate as much, fiddling with the button of his pants. But his fingers wouldn’t cooperate, much to his displeasure. He made a low noise in the back of his throat. Feng Xin gently placed a hand along his jaw, tipping his face up toward him. Mu Qing’s attention shifted to him.
“I asked you a question, A-Qing,” Feng Xin said calmly. “Can you answer me?”
Mu Qing blinked, realizing that he never did answer the question. “Your fingers.”
“Alright. Let me take those off then.”
Feng Xin undid and tugged his pants off his body. Then he removed his underwear. And now, Mu Qing was fully naked as well. Feng Xin grabbed a pillow and situated it under Mu Qing’s ass, prodding his legs apart and moving into the space between them. He reached over for one of the objects he’d brought into the room. Snapping open the cap of the tube, he worked on squeezing out some lube and spreading it along his fingers.
He traced a finger along his cheeks, pressing further in to prod at his hole. Mu Qing gasped, hands shooting upward to clutch at his biceps.
“I’m going to put one in now. Is that okay?” Feng Xin said.
“Yes.”
Feng Xin pressed his finger in, slowly encasing it within his warmth. Mu Qing let out a stuttered exhale. The knuckle met his body, pausing for a moment before pulling back and pressing in again. It started twisting and curling, trying to stretch him open wider.
“Oh baby, I wanted to make you beg tonight. You acted out so much today,” Feng Xin said with his eyes on his face. “But you’re just so far gone that I couldn’t.”
“Mngh?”
Feng Xin smiled. “Exactly. You’re being so good for me now though. So good. Perfect for me.”
Mu Qing could really only make out the words ‘beg’ and ‘good’, and something about acting out today. But when he heard ‘good’, it made his brain buzz a little more.
“Yeah. Good for you,” Mu Qing said.
Feng Xin had finally worked up to three fingers. He wedged in a fourth one, and Mu Qing now felt thoroughly stretched out. Just as he was formulating how to ask for more, he felt a hand wrap around his cock. He moaned at the stimulation, relieved to finally feel something with how long he’d been waiting to be touched there. Feng Xin stroked him languidly, still working his fingers in and out of him. It stoked the burning heat inside him, and he eventually couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
“Inside me now.”
Both of Feng Xin’s hands paused, and he looked up at him.
“Do you want my cock now?” he said. “Is that what you want?”
“Please. Please.”
“I told you that you didn’t have to beg. But I’ll do whatever my A-Qing asks of me. Since he’s been so good.”
He removed his fingers and reached over to grab something. Mu Qing hazily recognized that the square foil being ripped open was a condom. He watched as he swiftly rolled it on himself, following up with lube. Then he was lining himself up and pressing in slowly.
“Ah. Ahh, A-Xin,” Mu Qing moaned.
Feng Xin continued checking on him the further he encased himself. Mu Qing just let out noises of affirmation, grasping at his sides and trying to pull him in more, if anything. When Feng Xin bottomed out, he paused and allowed him to get used to the feeling. Then he started up a slow rhythm. The slide of his cock inside felt so good, stretched him so well, and Mu Qing melted into the sheets. He felt relaxed, mind hazy and body loose.
Feng Xin snapped his hips forward once, and Mu Qing gasped at the sudden burst of pleasure. Taking it as a positive reaction, he kept up the faster speed. There wasn’t much Mu Qing could do besides lie there and offer an occasional roll of his hips to meet Feng Xin’s thrusts. But he liked it this way with Feng Xin in control, leading him closer and closer to the edge. Mu Qing didn’t have much thought in his mind, only able to close his eyes and throw his head back as he was filled with his cock.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Feng Xin said. “So pretty. Sound so pretty. You’re—mngh—such a good boy.”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Of course you are. Followed my instructions so well. Did exactly what you were supposed to do. You—ah, A-Qing—you deserve to be fucked so good.”
Mu Qing nodded fervently, loud moans leaving his mouth as Feng Xin wrapped a hand around his cock between them. It was so much. Too much. Feng Xin stroked him in time with his thrusts. The pleasure hit him hard, cock twitching uncontrollably in his hand as he came. His eyes rolled back, and his back arched off the bed as he cried out a tangle of words that probably weren’t intelligible. His own ears could just make out the syllables of Feng Xin’s name escaping his lips.
Even as he went slack against the bed, he could feel the way Feng Xin still thrusted into him, albeit slower. He wasn’t sure how many more presses of his cock it took for Feng Xin to finally tense to a stop. His mind was still in a fog. The sensation of his cock sliding out of him made him hiss. His eyes fluttered shut, lost in the buzz of his brain. Everything felt so nice and calm. It would be easy to fall asleep this way.
His silent bliss was interrupted by a damp towel being dragged over his body. Feng Xin’s voice was soft and gentle. It was still impossible for him to make out any words; it sounded like nothing more than incoherent mumbling to him. The bed shifted, and then a body was pressing in close. He felt hands carefully turning him onto his side before a layer was thrown over their bodies, blanketing them in warmth.
After some time, Mu Qing stirred. He blinked his eyes open, realizing he must have fallen asleep at some point. There was no telling how long it had been though. The muffling in Mu Qing’s ears had finally lifted, and his eyes were able to focus. He tucked his chin to look down at the arms wrapped securely around his waist.
“Feng Xin?”
Feng Xin shifted at the sound of his voice. He burrowed his face into the back of his neck, inhaling deeply.
“A-Qing, baby. Have you come down?” Feng Xin said.
“Mm. Mostly. Was I asleep long?”
“Not really. It was probably about twenty minutes.”
That made sense. His highs tended to last about that long. Their more intense sessions could have him needing at least half an hour to return to a normal state. Now his thoughts were much clearer. There was still a faint tingle in the back of his head, but it felt more like goosebumps.
“How are you feeling?” Feng Xin said. He pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck, then another along his shoulder.
“Good. Everything feels good now.”
“I’m glad. You seemed like you enjoyed yourself.”
“I did. Though you could be rougher.”
“Rougher?”
Mu Qing felt his face heat up, realizing what he’d just said. He tried to pull away but Feng Xin only held on tighter, pushing his face insistently into his neck.
“No, no. Come back. Let’s talk about it,” Feng Xin said as he laughed.
“No. You just want to make fun of me. Forget I said anything.”
“Why would I make fun of you?”
“You’re laughing!”
“Only because I find you so cute. You’re adorable when you’re soft like this.”
“You’re insufferable. Get off me,” Mu Qing said. But there was no bite to his words.
His half-hearted attempt to wrestle Feng Xin off of him was met with resistance. Feng Xin was grinning as he shifted around until he was hovering above Mu Qing. Of course, Mu Qing often enjoyed the push and pull of their scuffles in bed. But he was still feeling weak and pliant from earlier, so Feng Xin easily pinned his wrists down on either side of his head. It sent a wave of heat through Mu Qing’s body. He swallowed hard as Feng Xin’s eyes trailed over his face and bare torso. All the mirth had left his face, replaced with a calm energy that looked a lot sexier than it had any right to be.
“Does my A-Qing want me to treat him rougher?” Feng Xin murmured.
“Yeah,” Mu Qing said, face burning.
Feng Xin dipped his face down to graze his lips along his jaw. “I usually treat you more gently when you’re like that because I don’t want to overwhelm you. But if that’s something you want, then we can work on setting more signals to figure out what’s not enough and what’s too much. How does that sound, A-Qing?”
“That sounds good.”
Feng Xin’s hands loosened from around his wrists, and Mu Qing took the opportunity to slip them around his neck. He pulled him into a proper kiss, their lips slotting together with ease. It was slow and gentle, and Mu Qing melted into it. There was nothing better than the feeling of Feng Xin’s warm chest pressing down against his own. Mu Qing felt safe, and relaxed, and loved. He felt so incredibly lucky to have someone like Feng Xin.